


I’ve not been the pinnacle of a father

by Loulouche



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Lesbian Disaster, Lesbian disasters, beauyasha - Freeform, they're gay and they're in love but they're idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loulouche/pseuds/Loulouche
Summary: During a night in the Nein-Sided Tower, Beauregard wakes up from a dream. Her anger won't leave her, so she gets up and ends up in the fey-cats-filled kitchen, in the middle of a panic attack, alone... Until she is not.orThe one where Beauregard dreams of her confrontation with her father and Yasha comforts her.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 8
Kudos: 154





	I’ve not been the pinnacle of a father

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in love with these two idiots since day 1 and this is my very first fic for them. English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance if I butcher it. Hope you enjoy!

Beauregard wakes up in the middle of the night with a scream. This is not a scream of fear or anxiety as the ones that sometimes leave her throat when she gets herself out of a nightmare. That one is full of rage and anger, close to those she lets out from time to time during battles.

She sits in her bed and grabs her head with both hands. Her jaw is clenched and her fingers are clawing her scalp. She is almost hurting herself, but she cannot feel it while her wrath is taking all the space in her mind.

Soon, she can’t take it anymore. She lets go of her head and instead, she grabs one of the many pillows discarded in the bed and proceeds to punch it repeatedly. She lets out muffled groans of frustration while doing so. It goes on for what is probably a minute or so before she finally stops.

Her breath is short. She can barely make out forms in the room around her, but she can’t tell if it is because of the lack of light or because her eyes are filled with tears. She furiously brushes them off and gets up. She cannot go back to sleep, not until she gets rid of her anger. She needs to cool down, one way or another.

She goes to her bathroom and takes some water from the basin to splash it on her face. After a moment she stops and looks at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are still a bit red, but at least she stopped the tears from pouring down.

She makes the mistake of thinking about her dream again and the anger creeps right back up her throat. She starts shivering. She can taste bile in her mouth. She grips the sides of the piece of furniture to try and remain into the moment instead of drifting away, but she can’t stop it.

She hears his voice in her head, telling her she is where she is now because he raised her the way he did. This is not fair. Her accomplishments are her own, she owes him nothing. At least, that is what she tells herself every time she doubts. Because deep down, she is afraid that he might be right, that he might be the reason of her success and she might not be entitled to feel any pride when she does.

No. No! She must not believe what he said. He was just trying to take credit for her accomplishments because that’s what he does. He doesn’t want her to feel like she can actually be good at something, or he is simply so far up his own ass that he actually believes he is the reason why she made it so far.

Beauregard lets out a low growl and clutches the cabinet with more intensity.

It is so frustrating to realize how deep her insecurities are rooted. She knows very well that seeing her father again not long ago has its role in all this, but this is still infuriating. Even after all these years, even after everything she has accomplished, somehow, she is still under his influence. She hates it.

She splashes some more water on her face and leaves the bathroom. She crosses her room and exits it. Looking at both sides of the corridor and listening carefully, she only hears silence. Apparently, she managed not to wake anyone up. Maybe Caleb kept his promise and made the walls soundproof this time.

She goes to the center of the tower, but she doesn't even bother using the spell, or whatever it is, and just leaps down before catching herself in a three-point landing. She heads straight to the kitchen. When she enters, there are cats everywhere. She knows they are fey cats and even real cats are often up at night, but it is still strange to see them. They seem ready to answer any request, even in the middle of the night.

Once she is there, she goes through the pantry. She is frantic, and she knows why. Her anger is still there, growling inside of her chest, trying to come out, and she can tell this emotion is slowly but surely turning into panic. She tries with all that she has to calm down, but it seems impossible. Just when she thinks it can’t get worse, she steps on a tail. She curses and the fey meows loudly in protest.

"You shouldn't be on my way if you don't want to be stepped on."

The cat meows again. It seems to be judging her, and Beauregard does not like being judged, certainly not by a cat.

"What?"

The animal stares at her for a few more seconds before turning around and leaving. Beauregard scoffs and goes back to what she was doing, but this time, she steps on a paw and gets another loud meow in response.

"Fuck you! Just go away! Get out!" She turns to the other cats that are minding their own business. "All of you, get out! Fuck off!"

Some cats immediately leave the kitchen, visibly scared off by her roar. Others stare at her with scornful looks, and then take the aqueducts, taking their time to exit the room.

As soon as Beauregard is alone, a sob leaves her throat and she knows the fight is over.

She stops for a moment to inhale and exhale quietly, but all she can do is breathe shakily. A second sob escapes her and she puts her hand over her mouth to stifle it. It only makes it sound distorted. Even with her supposedly dope monk skills, she can’t find it inside of her to stop the panic attack that is slowly creeping its way into her throat. She feels her chest tighten and suddenly she can’t breathe. She lays back against the wall and slides down until she hits the ground.

Her eyes are closed now. She tries to calm down, but she can’t. The air is escaping her lungs in short and fast exhales. She feels tears running down her cheeks, but she is helpless.

Suddenly, she hears footsteps from the corridor and her panic gets worse.

“Beau?”

Shit. Yasha. She is the last person she wants to see her like that.

Beauregard gets up and stumbles a bit. She quickly scans the kitchen and spots a chair.

“Beau, is that you?”

The footsteps are getting closer. Beauregard frantically goes for the chair and then rushes to the door. She still can’t breathe properly, but even through her panic attack, she manages to expertly block the door just in time.

The knob gets shaken.

“Beau, what the hell?”

Beauregard steps back, still looking at the door, still breathing heavily. She startles when she bumps into the central island and stops.

“What’s going on? Beau, open the door.”

She can’t take her eyes off the door. Now, what? What is she supposed to do now that she has blocked Yasha out? She should have thought it through.

Yasha goes for the knob again, with more vigor this time.

“Beau, that’s ridiculous. Don’t make me knock the door down.”

“You can break that damn door for all I care.” She is surprised she was able to form a sentence through her shallow breath. “It will be back up again next time we come here. This door is not even real, nothing in that _fucking_ tower is.”

“Do you really want me to wake everybody up when I go through the door?”

Suddenly, Beauregard envies Jester. She wishes she could just dimension door back to the loneliness of her room. But she can’t.

After a short moment of hesitation, she walks to the door and nonchalantly kicks the chair away. Yasha immediately comes in.

“What’s going on?”

She seems genuinely worried and there is concern in her voice. Beauregard doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns around and walks to the central island. She keeps her back to Yasha and heavily leans on the counter with both hands.

“Beau, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Beauregard suddenly realizes her breath is almost back to normal. This simple fact makes her freak out. What is that supposed to mean? She is so inside of her own head that she doesn’t realize Yasha got closer until she is right next to her. “Hey.”

She puts a hand on her shoulder, but Beauregard immediately recoils from her touch and takes a step back. She instantly regrets it when she sees the hurt in Yasha’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- It’s not you, I- Just, please, don’t touch me right now.”

Yasha seems to relax and the hurt fades away. “Okay. I won’t.”

Silence settles down and Beauregard hates it. She instinctively wraps her arms around her waist. She is only wearing a pair of shorts and a sports bra, and she tries to convince herself this is why she feels uncomfortable, but she knows it’s not the reason of her discomfort. The aasimar has already seen her in her night clothes more than once and that is not a physical vulnerability she is trying to hide at that moment.

She can’t take the silence anymore. “Did I wake you up?”

Yasha shakes her head. “No. I couldn’t sleep and I got hungry, so I went down there to eat something. I saw light coming from the kitchen and I heard sobs.”

Beauregard looks away, ashamed, and Yasha bites her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” Beauregard brushes the remaining tears off of her face and quietly sniffs.

“Why are _you_ up?”

Yasha stares right at her and Beauregard keeps her face turned away from her. She starts nervously scratching the skin of her neck.

She can hear his voice inside her head, as loud and clear as it was earlier in her dream. But it was not a dream, it was a memory.

_I’ve not been the pinnacle of a father._

In that moment, while she was confronting her father, she thought that was it. She thought he had finally realized the way he had been treating her, how unfair he had been to her for her entire life. But then…

_In the same way that you’ve not been the pinnacle of a daughter._

She was so stupid. How could she believe he would change? He would never change.

His voice resonates in her head again.

_I accept my responsibilities in the things that I’ve maybe been a bit harsh on. But look what you’ve become._

She wants to believe that what she has accomplished so far has nothing to do with him, but sometimes, she isn’t sure. Maybe she is lying to herself.

But fuck, her parents fucking got rid of her! Even if she was a brat, how was it fair?

He called her a _blessing_. Bullshit.

“Stop.”

Beauregard is suddenly pulled out of her thoughts. Yasha briskly takes her hand in hers. Only then, Beauregard realizes her neck is hurting. She can only imagine how red her skin must be right now when she sees how concerned Yasha looks.

Her voice comes out as a croak. “What if my father’s right? What if he did his best but I was just a terrible daughter?”

At first, Yasha seems a bit taken aback. But she quickly figures out what this is all about and she quietly listens to Beauregard.

“Maybe I was ungrateful and I just imagined all of this. Maybe _I’m_ the asshole in the end.”

“Don’t you dare say or even think that, Beau. Listen to me.” Yasha takes Beauregard’s other hand in hers and forces her to look her right in the eye. “You are _not_ a terrible person, okay? It’s like Jester said. Your father was an asshole for being mean to you and you’re a wonderful person.”

Beauregard forces a smile, but her father’s voice is right back into her head.

_Don’t think for any moment your mother and I haven’t loved you from the depths of our hearts this entire time. I’m sorry if we didn’t show it properly._

“But he seemed genuine when he said he tried his best to be a good father. Do you-” She feels tears growing into her eyes again. “Do you think he loves me? I mean… He did say that my mother and he loved me, and Jester, she said he looked honest. He said he wanted to make it up to me.”

“I don’t know, Beau. He also kind of made excuses for his behavior.” Yasha sighs and thinks for a moment. “That’s the thing with love. You can love someone, or at least think you love them, and still treat them like shit.”

“I wish I could forgive him as quickly as Jester forgave her dad.”

“I think these are two very different situations. I’m not sure they’re comparable in any way.”

A tear rolls down Beauregard’s face. She brushes it away with an angry gesture and sniffs. She hates being so weak in front of people, especially in front of Yasha.

“I’m so selfish. You’ve been through hell in so many ways, and here I am, crying because daddy was mean to me.”

“Again, not comparable.”

Yasha is so sweet. Beauregard would like to think it’s just for her, that she’s special to Yasha, but as strange as it may sound, the barbarian is always sweet. She’s not special to her.

“You know…”

Beauregard turns her head to Yasha and looks her in the eye.

“Even before meeting your father, I knew he was a bad person just by hearing what you told us about him. But after seeing him… Gods, it was hard not to lose it. I’m not gonna lie, in other circumstances, I would have punched him in the face.”

Beauregard lets out a sad laugh through her tears. “You would?”

“Hell yeah. Or maybe not, because, you know, I didn't know if you would have been okay with that or not. But I did want to pick up all the flowers in the garden. Too bad there was none.”

Beauregard smiles and this time, it’s a bit more sincere.

“You know, when I take a step back and try to think about all of it with a clear mind… I can see that you guys are right. I might be a bit of an asshole, but I know I got it from him and he’s the one to blame for the way he treated me. But also…” Her voice cracks a bit. “I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be afraid of. If you have to face your father again, we will all be here with you. And if you don’t want to see him ever again, you don’t have to.”

“I’m not worried about myself.” Beauregard swallows the lump in her throat. “I’m worried about TJ.” She takes a deep breath. “He’s just a little boy, you know. How is he supposed to stand up to my father if he ever acts the way he did with me?”

“Maybe he won’t.”

“But what if he does? And even if he doesn’t, what if my brother grows to become a jerk like my father?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I saw the way you two interacted. It was short, but your brother and you already share a strong bond. If you fight to be a part of his life, he will become a good person.”

“I don’t know. What if history repeats itself and the cycle never ends? I-” Her voice cracks and for a moment, she thinks she won’t be able to keep going. “I love him so much. I know it probably sounds ridiculous, because I saw him for like, two minutes, but I love this little man so much.” She starts crying again, but this time, she doesn’t fight it. “I’m so scared he’s gonna be like my father and I will never get someone in my bloodline that I can get along with.”

“He’s gonna be okay. If he’s anything like you, and I’m sure he is, he’s gonna see your father for what he truly is and he won’t fall under his influence.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Beauregard closes her eyes for a moment and a tear rolls down her cheek. Yasha is still holding her hands. She squeezes them, probably to try and get her to look at her, and it works. Gods, how beautiful she is. She is always beautiful, but she’s even more when she cares. She is staring at Beauregard, her heterochromatic eyes somewhat hypnotic.

“You know, Veth’s suggestion to kidnap him was probably not a good idea.”

“Yeah, no, definitely. Terrible idea.”

“But, you know, maybe you could ask Jester to scry on him from time to time, just to make sure he’s okay.”

“I don’t know. I thought about it, obviously, but- I don’t know how I would react if I saw my father treating him like he treated me.”

“Yeah, I get it. But think about it. I mean, keep thinking about it. Maybe it would help you if you saw what his life actually looks like.”

“What if he has everything I ever wanted and I grow jealous of him?”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Yasha’s voice is deep and serious. Beauregard’s heart skips a beat.

She clears her throat to try and clear the air of the sudden tension. She gently pulls her hands away and Yasha lets go of them. Not knowing what to do, she just sways from one foot to the other until she finally finds something to say.

“I love the new style. It’s nice.”

It might not be very smart or interesting, but at least she broke the uncomfortable silence that was starting to settle in. It takes a moment for Yasha to understand what she is referring to, but she points at her hair slowly turning white from the root.

“Oh, that. Yeah. I hadn’t noticed, but Caduceus pointed this to me. I had no idea it could go back to the way it used to be. Just like I had no idea my wings could grow actual feathers.”

“Yeah. This whole new look is pretty nice. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” Yasha’s face brightens up a bit with a shy smile. It is rare, but it is beautiful.

Beauregard scratches the back of her neck. She immediately sees concern on Yasha’s face and she stops. She buries both her hands deep in the pockets of her shorts.

“You know, when we left the house that day, I saw you were hanging back. What did you say to my father?”

Yasha seems hesitant. “Nothing.”

“Really? He looked pretty shaken when you left.”

“I just… I tried to put some sense into him. I don’t know if it worked.”

“Well. Whatever you told him… Thank you.”

“Like I said, I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t want to assume too much, but I guess you stood up for me. That’s not something a lot of people ever did for me. So thank you.”

“Of course.”

There is an awkward silence, until Beauregard clears her throat.

“Well, I guess I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Yeah. Do you want me to walk you back?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You go through your midnight snack and I’ll go back to my room.”

“Okay.”

Beauregard gives Yasha an awkward smile and walks toward the door. As she is about to leave, she stops for a moment and turns around.

“Yasha, I...”

“Yeah?”

Beauregard stops. She looks at Yasha, who is looking at her. She shakes her head a bit and just smiles.

“Nothing. Have a good night.”

“You too, Beau.”

The monk leaves the kitchen and goes back to her room with a tickly sensation in her stomach that doesn’t leave until she falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk about these two beautiful lesbian disasters, or other stuff, you can find me on tumblr: louloutche. Kudos and comments are highly appreciated, these are fuel for us authors.
> 
> As always, don't forget to love each other!


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